


i cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words

by wearealltalesintheend



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Rom Com-ish, vaguely very vaguely inspired by Pride and Prejudice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 22:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16564769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearealltalesintheend/pseuds/wearealltalesintheend
Summary: “I’m going to say something,” Theo says, no, announces, after having barged in on Liam’s bedroom like he owns the place, because Theo can never just walk in somewhere, oh no, god forbid, “and you are going to wait until I’m done to say anything else.”Liam stares. He had been in the middle of Chemistry homework before Theo had rudely interrupted him and now he’s lost all track of where this equation is going. Or his life, but hey, that one went off track way earlier.“Good.” Theo nods to himself as if Liam’s silence is agreement and not a direct result of being smacked in the face with unreasonable demands on an otherwise ordinary Saturday afternoon. “And you can’t follow me after.”or, alternatively, the one where Theo has something to say, Liam has an epiphany, and Mason really needs to step up his metaphor game.





	i cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words

**Author's Note:**

> heyy, guess who's watched Pride and Prejudice yet again? Yup. Procrastination really does work miracles and that movie is still a masterpiece.
> 
> Anyway. I don't know what I was going to say but it's 1am, so.

“I’m going to say something,” Theo says, no,  _ announces,  _ after having barged in on Liam’s bedroom like he owns the place, because Theo can never just  _ walk in  _ somewhere, oh no, god forbid, “and you are going to wait until I’m done to say anything else.”

 

Liam stares. He had been in the middle of Chemistry homework before Theo had rudely interrupted him and now he’s lost all track of where this equation is going. Or his life, but hey, that one went off track  _ way _ earlier.

 

“Good.” Theo nods to himself as if Liam’s silence is agreement and not a direct result of being smacked in the face with unreasonable demands on an otherwise ordinary Saturday afternoon. “And you can’t follow me after.” 

 

“What?” Liam manages to push the word out of his lips, mildly alarmed now.  _ That can’t be good.  _ “What did you do? Wait, don’t tell me, I need to be able to plead plausible deniability when Scott asks me.”

 

“You know what, I resent that,” he frowns, then shakes his head, fingers tapping a restless beat on the threshold to Liam’s bedroom. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I need you to promise it. That you won’t interrupt and you won’t follow. Promise.”

 

“You’re being extra weird today and I swear to god, if there’s a dead body on your truck I’m not helping you bury it,” Liam sighs, putting his Chemistry book down and giving up completely on schoolwork. There’s no way his Saturday won’t be completely derailed after this. And  _ come on,  _ Liam doesn’t even know  _ where  _ one would go to hide a dead body. The woods? Derek’s lot? “But  _ why?” _

 

“Because everyone in your pack is stupid about promises.” Theo shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest, “now promise.”

 

“You mean we actually take them seriously?”

 

“I said what I said. Are you doing it or not?”

 

Liam narrows his eyes. Theo is leaning against the doorway, looking expectantly down at Liam, and Liam can hear his heart beating calmly all the way across the room but it  _ thumps  _ just slightly out of rhythm when their eyes meet. It’s a barely there thing because Theo is a freak who needs to keep everything under control or else someone might accidentally realize he is not, in fact, a robot. “Fine,” Liam grumbles, spinning in his swivel chair so he’s not craning his neck to look at Theo. “I promise.  _ There.  _ Now out with it. What’s the crisis?”

 

Theo doesn’t answer right away. 

 

Instead, he gets this weird look on his eyes before looking away, down at the loose, cracked tile on Liam’s floor, shifting so he’s standing and not leaning anymore and  _ wow,  _ Liam doesn’t think he’s ever seen him  _ not  _ leaning on the nearest flat surface when they’re not walking. Theo huffs, annoyed, stuffing his hands on the pocket of his hoodie, and when he glances up the weird look is gone, replaced by a blankness so empty, Liam thinks the grey might have swallowed all the specks of color.

 

But then again, Theo’s eyes always look a little more grey in the afternoon light.

 

“Okay,” Theo says, sounding more like he’s about to plead guilty to multiple charges of murder in front of a whole crowded courtroom than spout whatever nonsense he’s done this time in Liam’s mess of a bedroom. Then, he narrows his eyes, as if it’s all Liam’s fault. “I like you.”

 

Liam’s brain melts in a puddle by his feet.

 

That’s–

 

Wait.

 

So–

 

No, but–

 

What.

 

Since when–

 

_ What. _

 

_ Oh,  _ so this is why Theo didn’t want Liam to interrupt. Well, that’s quite okay by Liam, because, you see, Liam's brain is short-circuiting right now, so please wait another indefinite amount of minutes as it reboots.

 

“As in,” Theo continues in the same breath, and  _ motherfucker,  _ how is he keeping his heartbeat steady? Liam’s is going through the roof and he’s not even the one doing the confessing right now. “I really want to kiss you.”

 

Then, Theo pauses. Maybe he’s waiting for an answer. Maybe he’s waiting for Liam to answer so he can laugh, shout  _ sike  _ and tell Liam that  _ of course this is a prank, what, did you think we’d run off to the sunset?  _ Yeah, well, that’s just too bad, because either way, Liam’s head is all white noise right now, no coherent thoughts up here, oh nossir. 

 

_ Jesus,  _ he’s losing it, isn’t he?

 

“Well,” Theo says, in the same even voice, looking as collected as always, even though Liam’s entire world is rearranging itself in its axis right now. “This went better than I thought. Goodbye, then.”

 

And  _ leaves. _

 

Theo turns around and walks out into the hall, climbs down the stairs, and it’s only the sound of the front door clicking shut– not even slamming, just calmly, collectedly, sensibly shut– that snaps Liam out of his frozen state.

 

Reboot’s over, alright.

 

Liam knows he won’t make it downstairs in time to stop Theo, so runs to the window instead, leaning so far out, he sways forward dangerously close to falling off. He shouts his name, watches as Theo’s blue truck idles in his driveway and Theo sticks his head out of the driver’s rolled down window, “fuck off, Liam! You  _ promised!” _

 

And god  _ fucking  _ damn it. Liam did promise, didn’t he?

 

Motherfucking  _ sneaky _ son of a bitch.

 

Theo was fucking right. Liam’s stupid with promises, that’s gotta be the only reason he’s letting the idiot, the  _ fucking idiot,  _ drive away without dragging him back here to explain  _ what the hell just happened. _

 

_ Fine,  _ maybe Liam’s brain is still potato mush.

 

*

 

After an appropriately half an hour of pacing in his room, trying to slowly process things, Liam does the obvious next, logical step.

 

He calls Mason.

 

_ “What’s up,”  _ Mason asks, because Mason isn’t aware of how loaded that question was. What’s up?  _ Oh, I don’t know, I’m failing Chemistry, Scott wants me to mail him his shitty Christmas sweater from last year, oh, and also Theo’s in lo– like with me, so you know, nothing much, what about you?  _ Instead, what comes out of the other side of his admittedly pretty terrible brain-to-mouth filter is:

 

_ “I’m bi.” _

 

There’s a long, silent pause on the other end of the line. Then, “okay,” Mason says carefully, “you’ve already told me that… last year. You do remember that, right?”

 

“Theo wants to kiss me,” Liam says, and hey, blurting things out is better than rambling, right? 

 

_ “Okay,”  _ Mason accepts the information easily as if Liam had just told him the sky is blue, and not, you know, a mindblowing information that’s been repeating on a loop on his mind for the past half hour.  _ “Do you want to kiss him?” _

 

“No!” To be fair, Liam’s a very contrary person and he’s been hanging out with Theo a lot lately, so denying things is kind of a knee-jerk reaction at this point, “maybe. I don’t know.”

 

_ “Hm, I see,”  _ he hums thoughtfully, like yes he actually  _ has  _ some idea of what’s going on. Maybe he does, Mason’s the smartest person he knows– apart from Lydia, of course, who’s a genius and should not be counted.  _ “So that’s the question, then. Do you like him?” _

 

“You know, you’re handling this better than I expected, are you sure you’re not going into shock? Wait, is everything okay, is something wrong, is that why you’re being so weird about this? Mason, Mason, Mason, say  _ pineapple _ if someone is holding you hostage–”

 

_ “And okay, you’re definitely freaking out. I’ll be there in ten. With ice cream.” _

 

“But like,  _ pineapple  _ ice cream?”

 

_ “Don’t do anything stupid, don’t call him– actually, don’t talk with anyone, period, until I get there.” _

 

“But, but, you didn’t– Mason,  _ are you–” _

 

The line disconnects.

 

*

 

Let the record show that Liam can follow simple, clear instructions.

 

He doesn’t talk with anyone like Mason told him not to.

 

Does it have more to do with the fact that Theo isn’t answering his calls? Maybe.

 

But Mason doesn’t have to know that.

 

*

 

“Okay, I’m assuming you already called him but he didn’t pick up,” is the first thing Mason tells him after they settle on Liam’s bed, a pint of chocolate ice cream between them. “So, I’m going to ask again,  _ do you like him back?” _

 

Most of Liam’s brain is still made out of white noise and grey static, but there’s a small, stubborn spot that’s growing louder by the second, and Liam thinks if he listened just a little harder, he might hear what’s it saying. Right now, though, static drowns anything else. “I don’t know. I’m still, you know, in shock? Like, I did not see  _ that  _ coming!”

 

Mason digs on the chocolate, head bobbing sedately as he nods along Liam’s spluttered words. “Yeah, I was sure he was never going to bring that up.”

 

_ “What?” _

 

“I mean, Theo isn’t exactly the type to talk about his feelings, you know? Somehow, he strikes me more of the  _ let’s all pretend this isn’t a thing  _ type.”

 

“No, no, no,” Liam stops him, pulling the ice cream out of Mason’s reach. Ice cream is for talkers. “You mean you  _ knew  _ about this?”

 

Every once in a while, Mason does a thing with his eyebrows and gets this squinty eyes, that Liam likes to call The Unimpressed Glare of Doom. It’s a very rare, very distinct glare that Mason only breaks out when Liam is being particularly dumb. 

 

In yet another surprising turn of events, this is one of those times.

 

“Liam,” Mason says evenly, kidnapping the ice cream back, “even I, the human with no superpowers, could see that.”

 

_ “What.” _

 

“Come on, dude,” he points at Liam with his spoon, “the guy hates everyone– except  _ you.” _

 

“That’s not true. I’m pretty sure he told me to fuck off just this morning. Now that I think about it, he’s giving off a lot of mixed signals here.”

 

“ _ Dude.  _ You know it’s different. It’s like, like– Lizzie and Mr.Darcy!” Mason has that glint on his eyes that means he’s absolutely invested on this and it would be no use to try and steer him away from it. Liam, in particular, thinks it’s gotta be brain freeze. “Liam, listen, he’s like, your Mr.Darcy. No, don’t give me that face– hear me out here!”

 

“Mason,  _ for fuck’s sake–” _

 

“Like, you totally hated each other in the beginning, he confessed his undying love for you while insulting your family then immediately disappeared, helped you and your family in a time of dire need– see? It’s ticking off all the boxes and–  _ oh my god,”  _ he pauses, realization dawning on his face, “does that make me and Corey Mr.Bingley and Jane?”

 

“I don’t know, would that make Stiles Ms.Bennet?” Liam sighs. Maybe enabling Mason is, at the very least, entertaining and Not Thinking About The Thing sounds great. “And Scott Mr.Bennet?”

 

“Don’t think too hard,” Mason waves him off, shaking his head and hastily adding, “the point is: it’s kinda obvious if you know him and hindsight is always 20/20.”

 

Well, Liam can’t disagree with that.

 

Especially because the white noise in his head is receding, and the very stubborn part of his mind demanding attention is louder than Mason’s weird literature metaphors. Especially because now that he thinks about it, Theo’s never answered when Liam asked why he kept saving him.

 

Why he  _ keeps _ saving him _. _

 

Especially because Mason has a point, and apparently even Scott agrees with him at some level, because Liam is always the one tasked with talking with Theo these days like he’s some kind of pack liaison. 

 

Especially because the more he thinks about it, the more everything slides into place, like an image coming into focus that you hadn’t noticed was a little bit blurry before. Especially because Liam thinks he can’t  _ not  _ think about it now.

 

“Do I like Theo?” Liam asks out loud. He hadn’t meant to, but he isn’t very embarrassed about it. Mason’s heard worse from him, been there for worse dramas. “Shouldn’t I know that?”

 

Mason hums thoughtfully, seeming to be carefully considering his words. “Do you know the story about the frog in the boiling water?”

 

“Yeah,” Liam frowns, wrinkling his nose in confusion, “why?”

 

“Well, you know how they say if you heat the water slowly enough, the frog won’t notice until it’s too late?” Liam nods. “So, maybe you’re the frog. Maybe you just haven’t noticed the water boiling. Or maybe you really don’t like him that way.”

 

“That’s. That’s less helpful than you think.”

 

“I’m sorry, man,” Mason passes him the nearly empty carton with a sympathetic grimace, “but you’re the only one who can answer that.”

 

Liam thinks he wants to punch Theo right now. Look at this. He had  _ plans  _ this Saturday, he had meant to finish his Chemistry homework, he had meant to stay in bed and binge watch whatever new show is on Netflix, he had meant to play video-games, he had meant to do literally  _ anything else  _ than wallow in ice cream. 

 

And okay, maybe there’s a clue in the fact that everytime Liam says he wants to punch Theo nowadays everyone and their grandmothers know it’s a threat as empty as they come.

 

Until it’s not, that is.

 

But still.

 

“Listen,” Mason nudges him gently with his elbow, shaking him out of his thoughts, “you don’t have to have all the answers now. Just don’t bring it up with him until you do.”

 

“He made me promise I wouldn’t follow him,” Liam tells him absent-minded.

 

“That sounds like Theo,” he agrees, gathering the spoons and carton of ice cream, careful not to spill on Liam’s bed. Mason gets to his feet, arms full of the proof Liam is terrible at dealing with his problems, “okay. That’s enough stressing for a day, I think. Why don’t we do this, let’s play that new game you bought last week, take your mind off this.”

 

Maybe his Saturday won’t be totally, hopelessly lost after all. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

 

Besides, don’t they say sleeping on the issue helps?

 

*

 

Sleeping on the issue does not help.

 

Okay, fine.  _ Maybe  _ Liam should give it a chance longer than an hour and a half, but he can’t sleep and when he does, it’s a restless, shallow, troubled sort of sleep. He keeps tossing and turning on the bed, his sheets terribly tangled on his legs in a way that he’s sure means he’ll fall face first when he tries to get up.

 

So what can Liam do, really?

 

And his mind isn’t helping, either.

 

It keeps bringing up Mason’s stupid story about the frog and the water, and Pride and Prejudice, and Liam didn’t even read the whole book, for fuck’s sake. He saw the movie, though. It was pretty good, he has to admit.

 

Liam isn’t overly fond of being alone with his thoughts, especially when they seem to be conspiring mutiny against him like this, but it’s very dark outside and he can’t sleep. 

 

There’s nothing else to do but  _ think. _

 

*

 

Scott wears his heart on his sleeve.

 

He wears his heart bare for the whole wide world to see even as it bleeds, even as it breaks, even as it skips however many beats.

 

Liam is fairly sure his isn’t quite as uncovered. It’s still there, exposed like a fractured bone and carved with more scars than he’d like, but Liam still likes to think he’s pulling down at his sleeves to shelter it a bit.

 

And he can’t help wishing to bury it a little further, hide it a little deeper, every time it’s returned to him, bruised and battered. He knows Hayden hadn’t meant to hurt him when she left, but intention didn’t make it any less painful.

 

Besides, people leaving you isn’t something scar tissue can desensitize. 

 

Stiles would say it’s dumb to trust Theo.

 

But Stiles doesn’t know Theo. 

 

It wasn’t Stiles that saw the wild look on his eyes when he pulled himself out of the ground, with dirt and soot covering his skin, or the very real hitch of desperation when he said he just wanted to stay alive.

 

Stiles wasn’t there when Theo was willing to trade his life for Liam’s in the elevator, trusting Liam to find a way to undo all that mess.

 

In fact, Stiles was miles away when Theo kept saving Liam time and time again, snapping and cursing, but still helping him whenever Liam needed. 

 

It’s not Stiles that watched Theo slowly build a life that is his and not fabricated to be the picture perfect all-american cover story, piece by piece learn how to be himself after everything.

 

Maybe Stiles doesn’t have all the right answers all the time.

 

Or maybe Liam already has all the answers he needs.

 

*

 

To be fair, he hadn’t meant to do this at two in the morning.

 

There’s still time to turn back, Liam supposes, even as he knocks again on the door. The wood is chipped at the edges, and the paint is coming off in some places, but the hinges don’t creak when it swings open.

 

“No,” Theo says, flatly, as soon as he catches sight of Liam, pitifully clad on jeans and a shirt so wrinkled from being crumpled into a ball near his bed that his mother would never forgive him for leaving the house in. “It’s two in the fucking morning, we’re not doing this now, you  _ psycho _ .”

 

“Wait, wait,  _ wait,”  _ Liam makes an aborted motion, wanting to push his way in but not willing to invade on Theo’s space. “I’m sorry! I know it’s late, but let me explain!”

 

Theo sighs, dragging a hand across his face, and makes an impatient  _ go on  _ gesture.

 

Liam goes on. “We need to talk.”

 

“That explains  _ nothing. _ Come back at a more reasonable time.” Theo tries to close the door, but Liam must look really pitiful right now, because instead, he sighs again, long-suffering and tired.  _ “Fine.  _ Come in, weirdo.”

 

The inside of the studio is just as tidy as it had been the first time Liam had been allowed in, if a little less bare, with an old couch and a TV now, the covers in a lump on the mattress in the corner. Theo isn’t much proud about this place, Liam knows, which is part of the reason he doesn’t like having people over, but Liam doesn’t mind the empty spaces left. It means there’s more room to grow from there.

 

“We should get you some framed pictures to put on the walls,” Liam says because it’s easier than bringing up what he really wants to say. “I’m pretty sure Mason has plenty of photos to choose.”

 

“Liam,” Theo scowls, gritting his teeth, “if you’re here at two in the morning to discuss decorations, I swear to god. How did you even get up here?”

 

“Your landlady let me in,” Liam shrugs.

 

“It’s two in the fucking morning.”

 

“This is a really shady neighborhood.”

 

Okay. Yeah. Liam can do this. He already knows Theo likes him, he shouldn’t be this nervous. Oh man, he really didn’t appreciate Theo’s bravery enough earlier. But it’s fine. Liam’s totally got this. He has a plan, all he needs to say is  _ I want to kiss you too.  _ That’s it. No drawing it out, no sugarcoating it. One phrase. Simple, short, to the point. Liam has absolutely, undoubtedly, utterly got this.

 

_ “Go to prom with me.” _

 

Shit. Okay, maybe,  _ maybe,  _ Liam does not, in fact, got this. Damn it. He shouldn’t have started talking about photos and pictures. 

 

“What?” Theo is making a  _ face _ . It’s not a scowl, which is good, but it’s not a happy face either, which is not so good. It’s a  _ face.  _ “You realize there’s a couple of months until prom, right?”

 

“I know, but,” Liam swallows past the broken glass in his throat, “go with me. Then. This is me asking you in advance. To Prom.”

 

Theo stares at him. “What.”

 

“I thought about what you said–”

 

“Look, I’m going to stop you right there,” Theo cuts him off, clenching his jaw in a way that is decidedly  _ not happy.  _ “I only said what I said because you were bound to notice soon so I figured it was better to rip the band-aid. I’m not an idiot. And I don’t need your pity, or whatever it is you think you’re doing.”

 

Liam curses under his breath, huffing. “It’s not pity!” He crosses his arms, uncrosses it, flails. “It’s like  _ Where’s Wally!” _

 

“I know I’m going to regret asking this, but  _ what the fuck, Liam?” _

 

“Like, sometimes it’s really easy to find him, right? But sometimes, you need a little help to see it, you need someone to point it out for you, to give a few directions first. And then when you do see him, you realize it’s  _ right there,  _ it’s been right there all along, and you don’t know how you haven’t seen it before, how you could possibly have missed it, it was right there in your face this whole time.” Liam says in one breath, the words tumbling out before he can even finish thinking them, and feels his heart speeding up with each new letter. Theo’s been looking at him with wide eyes, frowning as he tries to keep up with Liam’s babbling. “I meant– this isn’t Pemberley, but I really want to kiss you too.”

 

“I really am an idiot,” Theo says wistfully and Liam feels vaguely offended, but Theo’s looking like he might be regretting this whole thing already, and that just won’t do, not after all this trouble, so Liam does what he came here to do in the first place.

 

He steps forward and tugs Theo down for a kiss.

 

It’s all the things he hadn’t realized he’d been missing, every inch of the empty space on his chest now feeling with something soft, and light, and warm.

 

“So it’s a yes?” Liam asks breathlessly, smiling against Theo’s lips.

 

Theo huffs a laugh, his hands coming to rest at Liam’s waist and pulling him closer. “Yes, Liam. I’ll go to your stupid ball.”

 

“Didn’t you know,” Liam says, “to be fond of dancing is a certain step towards falling in love.”

 

_ “Shut the fuck up,”  _ Theo growls, and kisses him again, and Liam thinks falling has nothing to do with steps.

 

But when Theo laughs, it does echo like the chiming of bells. 

  
  


*

 

_“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”_

 

_–_ Jane Austen, _Pride and Prejudice._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hey you made it! if you liked it, maybe leave a kudo or a comment? Those seriously make my day!
> 
> or, you can come talk to me on [my tumblr](http://wearealltalesintheend.tumblr.com/)
> 
> and hey? thanks.


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